Sunday, December 8, 2013

Every year for almost a half-century, a giant straw goat has
been erected in central Gävle, a city
of 75,000 by the Baltic Sea about 160 kilometers (100 miles) north of Stockholm.

Since the first Gävle
Goat (“Gävlebocken” in Swedish) was built in 1966,
it’s been an attractive annual target for arsonists and other vandals. The city’s massive version of a
Yule goat — the established Christmas symbol in Northern Europe and
particularly in Scandinavia —
was burnt down for the 26th time in 2012.

The iconic goat weighs 3.6 metric tons (8,000 pounds) and
stands 13 meters (about 43 feet) tall, towering over the city’s main square. Erecting
it, according to a 2012 interview in New York Magazine,
costs around 200,000 SEK — close to $31,000 USD at today’s exchange. Paying
humans to guard the goat isn’t cheap, either, but supposedly the most effective
in ensuring its survival.

It’s constructed over two days every winter in time for
the first Sunday of Advent, the countdown to Christmas. The city celebrates its
arrival with a fireworks show — somewhat ironic in that pyrotechnics have caused
its demise on multiple occasions.

The
goat is synonymous with Gävle.
It’s earned the city a lot of global attention. But while the goat may have
helped put Gävle on the map, it feels like the arsonistsare playing a larger role in keeping
itin the international headlinesvirtually every other December.

The
town trademark has evolved into two-way taunting. The English portion of the goat’s Twitter
bio reads “I’m the biggest straw goat in the world, follow my struggle
to survive arson attacks.” Last year, a photo of four ankles tattooed with a burning goat and the time and date the 2012 version went down
in flames was posted online.

Here’s a time-lapse of that goat’s final moments:

The Goat Committee (yes — there is one, founded in 1992) insists they
don’t condone its burning. But in my humble opinion, if it weren’t such an
annual game, not nearly as many people would pay any attention. The torching
tradition keeps it interesting.

It doesn’t look particularly challenging for would-be arsonists to access
the goat. The fence at left would probably deter only the least-committed
attacker, but the Committee has stated it doesn’t want to sacrifice aesthetics
to improve security, spurning the suggestion of a better barrier.

The hay used for the 2013 goat, which has now survived its first week, was
soaked in an anti-flammable liquid — a tactic that has yielded historically
mixed results.

Only 10
goats have stood past Christmas Day. The majority have burned, sometimes within
hours of being built.

The first few years in the late 1960s,
kids would apparently play hide-and-seek in and around the goat. Today, anyone
inside the fence who isn’t a paid guard is probably up to no good.

The
1976 goat was hit by a car, while the 1997 edition was damaged by fireworks. Flameproofed
goats in the 1980s were still successfully burnt down, and English bookmakers
started taking bets on the goat’s fate during that decade.

Over the years, it’s been guarded by
volunteers, paid security companies, taxis, cameras and even the local Swedish
infantry.

Although
perpetrators risk jail and hefty fines, only a handful have ever been caught. Included
in the busted, though, is an American tourist from Ohio who got drunk while
visiting a friend in Gävle and burned the 2001 goat down. He spent 18 days in
jail but fled back to the States upon being released without paying 100,000 SEK
($15,400 USD) in damages.

In 2005, the goat burned down when arsonists dressed as Santa and a gingerbread man reportedly launched an aerial attack of flaming arrows. For the goat’s 40th anniversary the following year, it was fireproofed with a substance used in aviation and survived through to
January 2, when it was dismantled on-schedule for storage.

Then a
few years ago, just four months after I moved here, I read this story about two
men trying to bribe a security guard in the hopes he would let them
kidnap the goat by helicopter and bring it to a well-known square in the heart
of Stockholm. I can only imagine how drunk you’d have to be to believe every
part of that plan could work — especially transporting an 8,000-pound goat that
distance by chopper.

The city of
Gävle is quite good at marketing the goat — it has its own bilingual social
media accounts, blog and webcam,
which updates every several seconds and enables spectators from around the
world to keep tabs on the goat’s fate.

While the webcam attracts thousands of visitors from
all over the world, the goat itself draws an impressive number of tourists to
the city each December who may have no other reason to venture north of
Stockholm. I was
fortunate to be passing through town on business last week and got to see the
goat for the first time. If you ever find yourself in Stockholm in December, I
would recommend taking the short train trip to check the spectacle out for yourself.

Information in this blog comes from Wikipedia and a variety
of news sources/articles. All photos and opinions within belong to the blogger.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

I relocated to Sweden three years ago today. I could now apply
for citizenship.

To become a Swedish citizen, most must have been living here
for a consecutive period of at least five years. That period is reduced to
three years, however, for those of us who are cohabiting with a Swede.

Having a Swedish
passport would certainly simplify crossing EU borders, and there are more than
a few world countries I’d like to visit that would be much easier (and cheaper)
to enter with a Swedish passport than a U.S. one.

That said, while I am now theoretically allowed to carry
dual citizenship, the U.S. really frowns upon it, particularly in this
situation. Many Americans who voluntarily apply for Swedish citizenship have
lost their American citizenship — and they didn’t even consider that
possibility when applying.

Furthermore, the vast majority of generous benefits enjoyed
by Swedish citizens — including healthcare and childcare that are heavily
subsidized by the government and a guaranteed pension — are also afforded to
those of us who hold permanent residence permits. I’m not chomping at the bit
to vote in Swedish national elections, so that doesn’t leave much motivation at
all for pursuing dual citizenship, considering the circumstances — as appealing
as the idea may sound. If Swedish citizenship is someday offered to me
unsolicited, that may be a different story. Swedish citizenship, unlike
American citizenship, can’t be revoked.

The Swedish government probably assumes that someone who has
cohabited with a Swede in Sweden for three years has fully assimilated and
deserves the privilege of citizenship.

I’m not so sure I would even deserve it, though. My
integration has been stalled for months by my own resistance to speaking
Swedish. I’ve been here long enough to develop a respectable understanding of
the language, and there are people both in my personal and professional circles
who speak Swedish to me and I answer in English. It seems to work well.

For the vast majority of immigrants in Sweden, securing
gainful employment is completely dependent on first mastering the language. I’ve
been fortunate enough to grow myself professionally here in a way I sometimes
doubt I would have even been able to if I had never left the States, relying on
my skills, experience and education. While it hinders others, I truly believe
that stubbornly sticking to English in Sweden has actually helped advance my
career.

I could likely live the rest of my life here without ever
speaking Swedish, but people would always view me as a “foreigner” speaking
English. Fluency in Swedish is crucial to social integration, and that’s the
real disadvantage about not speaking it.

As I reflect on these three years in Sweden, not making more
of an effort from day one to speak the language is probably my only regret —
and a shortcoming I understand I can choose to improve at any time.

Each of my three years in Sweden has been better than the
last. This year, I was granted permanent residency, put a ridiculously long train
commute in my past, moved to one of Europe’s most beautiful capital cities and
secured a second-hand contract for an ideal apartment in one of the world’s
most notoriously frustrating rental markets. I’m also two weeks away from
starting my new career with one of Sweden’s oldest and proudest engineering
companies.

I’m still happy that I chose to relocate to Sweden. Quality
of life is very high here. I’ve really learned to appreciate a different pace
of life, the breathtaking nature and the warm people as I’ve spent more time in
the country this year. After seven trips back to the States in my first 26
months, I’ve visited only twice in the past 10.

As the summer starts to wind down and we prepare for a fall
that always seems to be too short, I do wonder how I’ll handle another cold,
dark and depressing winter ahead. I used to live for the snowy months — I even
had the vanity license plate on my Subaru to prove it. (God, I miss that plate.)
Maybe it’s that I’ve been snowboarding a whopping three times in three winters
here — after tallying as many as a few dozen days a season in Tahoe several
years ago? I’m not sure.

I do know that the benefits of living
in Sweden still far outweigh the negatives, and until that changes, I’ll
continue to enjoy life here as an expat.